Death Be Not Proud
by VanishingWhispers
Summary: Perhaps the only thing the war did not kill was their love for each other. James/Lily.One-shot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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><p>As her fingers ghosted over the icy glass of the window, she could feel the eerily cold air against her stretched out hand. The strikingly brisk weather on the opposite side of the glass was far too cold for this time of the year. Everything seemed too cold lately.<p>

When they had first taken refuge in the quaint cottage nestled in Godric's Hollow, she didn't realize just how drastically her life would be changed. To be taken away from the epicenter of the escalating war and placed on the sidelines to feel the strength of the aftershocks from a distance did nothing to provide her a sense of security, instead leaving her chest tightening with the familiar pressure of her building frustration. She wanted nothing more than to get back to the frontline of the war, not be the cause of it. This pointless, and seemingly never-ending, war that was sparked from the ignorance of one dishonorable man who was willing to do whatever it took to quench his unfathomable thirst for power.

Near her feet lay the last edition of the Daily Prophet she had received, some three weeks back when Sirius had come by, the last of his visits before it had been decided that their continuation would be posing a hazard to their safety. Although she had been occupying herself with Harry, she had not failed to catch the momentary flashes of agony in both Sirius' and her husband's eyes as they said their final goodbyes, both too proud and stubborn to let down their walls and admit how much pain they were in at having to leave behind an extension of themselves. She knew this war would take everything from her, but that didn't mean she was going to sit back and allow it to pluck everything she held dear from her defenseless arms.

She knew getting married so young had its risks, but quite frankly, she didn't care. Her love for James was perhaps the only sure thing she had in her life, and she gave him everything. She could hear him now, in the main room with Harry in his lap, poring over the pages of _Quidditch Through the Ages _with such enthusiasm that she couldn't help but feel her heart swell for this man who allowed nothing to penetrate his love for his family. She wished she could say the same about herself.

She loved her family, of course. Her beautiful husband and the wonderful creation of life they had made together were her everything. But she could never shake the feeling of hopelessness she felt as she sat in the dimly lit room, not even bothering to look out of the grime-stained windows. For there was nothing she desired from the outside world, nothing at all. She picked up the neglected Daily Prophet article and skimmed her fingers over the title, feeling herself shudder involuntary at the sight of the moving faces that had been recently added to the growing number of dead.

"Lily."

She hadn't even noticed James sneak up behind her, her reflexes weakened by their lack of activity in this dreary old cottage. She slowly got up from her residence at the base of the window and allowed her muscles to get used to her sudden movement. They had also been weakened by this war, along with every other part of her being.

"James."

He was holding Harry, who was precariously on the verge of falling asleep in his father's arms as the hour continually grew darker.

She went to take Harry from him, holding on to him as though it was the last chance she would have to do so. James didn't say anything else, his eyes flickering over his wife's worn down face as he stood by the doorway, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as they always were when he was deep in thought.

"Stop it," he said finally.

She pulled her eyes away from Harry and allowed them to rest on those of James, sending him a questioning look.

"Stop letting them get to you. Stop letting this _war_ get to you, Lils. You know that I would rather give up my own life than let them hurt the both of you, and I'll be damned if my own wife is going to sit here and give them the satisfaction that they won," he said, his words harsh but his tone filled with soft affection.

He brought his body closer to hers, and she didn't know when he had gotten this close, only that she needed him to be closer. With Harry warmly nestled in between their bodies, James bent down and planted a gentle kiss, barely a brush of the lips, to Lily's temple.

"Please, Lily," he whispered into her fiery hair. "_Please_".

"All right," she whispered back, her voice quiet yet determined. She wasn't convinced that she could ever make an impact in the brewing war, but as long as James was by her side, she found herself not minding as much.

The house was quiet, save for the sound of the breaths of three people who loved each other deeply. The pure and untainted silence was soon interrupted however, when a noise that sounded faintly like the opening of a door floated up to the floor they were currently on. On any other given occasion, the sound would have gone unnoticed. But war does that to people, it seems. It puts them on a sense of high alert when they're protecting the people they love.

When she pulled away from James, she could see the fear he was trying to hold back. His entire body was rigid, a sharp contrast from the warm embrace he had been offering only moments before.

This was it, she thought. This was what all the hiding and secrecy and agony had been for. She knew they had been betrayed, the breaths all three of them were taking counting down to their last.

James was the one to break away first, and she knew what their fate would be. As he backed away towards the door, she couldn't help but feel herself be gravitated towards him, following his every move.

"Stay," he ordered in a small voice. "Stay here with Harry, Lily. Alright?"

She stood rooted to the spot, her panic must have been etched onto her face, for James took two quick strides towards her and kissed her harshly on the lips. They both exchanged verbal proclamations of love for one another as James bent down to kiss an already sleeping Harry on the head and once again beginning his retreat to the floor below them. He was without his wand, they both were; allowing themselves to give into the false sense of security this house provided and leaving themselves vulnerable and defenseless.

James closed the door behind him, in a final attempt to keep his family safe from who he was sure was waiting for him to deliver the fate the both of them had come to terms with many weeks ago.

She waited with bated breath, praying to anyone who was listening to let them escape this time, just this one last time. Her prayers remained unanswered, however, and were instead interrupted by the low cackle of a man who had no sense of pity or remorse for what he was about to do.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

With a flash of bright green light that seeped in through the opening just below the closed door and the accompanying sound of a soft thump, Lily knew he was gone.

She couldn't bring herself to cry, however. How could she? It felt as though it was her death, and one cannot mourn their own death.

Harry began to stir in her arms, and as he opened his startlingly green eyes, Lily felt her shattered heart break into a million more pieces. How unfair, she thought, that his life is going to be taken away from him before he even had the chance to live it. His entire life up until this point had been tainted by a vicious and unrelenting war that was soon to add another two casualties to its seemingly never-ending list.

She placed Harry down on the dust-coated floor and began whispering what she hoped to be comforting words into her son's ear. Her heart beating erratically, her mind shouting at any higher power to please, _please_ answer her and allow her son to live on.

The door creaked open, as the epitome of her hatred slowly made his way into the dim-lit room that housed the remaining members of the Potter family. He was in no rush, for the fear he elicited from others enticed him, and he longed for it. It filled him with a sick sense of pride what he could evoke from people who knew just as well as he what he was capable of.

"He was very brave, your husband. Very brave, indeed," he began, his voice high and treacherous.

"But as it so happens, I am not here to kill you, my dear. No, I am here for your boy. Allow me to kill him and I shall let you walk away, untouched."

"Not Harry, please no don't kill him, take me, kill me instead —", she screamed, her voice finally betraying her fear and pain.

"This is my last warning —"

"Not Harry! Please ... have mercy ... Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything..."

"You have left me with no other choice. I gave Severus my word that I would offer you your life, and I am a man of honor. But you are a fool, and there is no place for fools in this world. Expect to see your son in a few moments."

"_Please."_

"_AVADA KEDAVRA."_


End file.
